


Come on baby (make it hurt so good)

by reeby10



Category: The Following
Genre: Blood, Couch Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Kidnapping, M/M, Scratching, Unwilling Arousal, refrences to being drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 20:10:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15154733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/pseuds/reeby10
Summary: Mike wakes up to find he's been kidnapped by Roderick, who he absolutely doesn't want. No matter what Roderick has to say about it.





	Come on baby (make it hurt so good)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



> Title is from _Hurts So Good_ by John Cougar Mellencamp.
> 
>  **ETA:** Made some small changes and corrections 3/28/19.

Mike woke up with a pounding headache and gritty eyes. He blinked them open slowly, the bright light in whatever room he was in sending sharp bursts of pain through his head. Squinting, trying not to let out the groan of pain he very much wanted to, he looked around and tried to figure out where in the world he was. And why his arms seemed to be tied behind his back.

To his right, the wall was almost entirely taken up by dark wood bookshelves stuffed with books. He couldn’t read the titles from his position, but they had the look of very nice, very expensive volumes. The wall in front of him was mostly windows that looked out onto a nicely manicured lawn and woods further out, the late afternoon light streaming in, unhindered by the navy curtains tied up to the sides.

When he turned to the left, ignoring the way it made his neck and head twinge with pain, his blood ran cold. There was a large four poster bed, the comforter the same shade of blue as the curtains, and someone was lying against the plush headboard, reading a book. Even with the way the headache made his eyes water in pain, he could tell exactly who it was.

“Oh, are you finally awake?” Roderick asked, closing the book and laying it on the bed next to him. “I was beginning to think you might sleep all day.”

“I don’t think it’s really sleeping when you’re drugged,” Mike replied before he could think better of it.

His memories of that morning weren’t exactly crystal clear, but he was sure that Roderick had drugged him. There weren’t any other explanations for the pounding in his head or how his last memory was seeing a figure out of the corner of his eye when he stepped into the sheriff’s office, and then darkness. Roderick obviously ambushed and drugged him, he just didn’t know why.

Roderick didn’t say anything, just smirked that familiar, aggravating smirk of his. Mike refused to admit even to himself that it was an attractive look. When the silence finally went on so long that Mike started to shift unconsciously, uncomfortable with having Roderick just sitting there and watching him, Roderick finally stood up from the bed and walked over to Mike. He stopped barely a foot away, still staring intently.

“What do you want with me?” Mike bit out, knowing Roderick liked to watch him squirm but unable to just sit there and wait.

“Now, don’t be like that, darling,” Roderick said. His smirk morphed into something far too self satisfied, and it just made Mike angrier. “Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you. I knew you wouldn’t be the one to come to me, so I had to take things into my own hands.”

“That’s because you’re a _serial killer_ ,” he replied. He struggled a little against the rope that tied his hands behind his back, wishing he could get them loose. Roderick would never be that careless though. “I want to arrest you, not do… whatever it is you’re trying to do here.”

Roderick let out a laugh, the sound more than a little mocking. “I think you want to do ‘whatever it is I’m trying to do here,’ you just don’t want to admit it.”

Mike bit down hard on his immediate reaction, knowing it would only give Roderick more ammunition against him. It was better just to be quiet and try to figure out a way out of this. Ryan and the rest of the FBI would surely be looking for him, so rescue would be on the way at some point. He tried to avoid remembering that the FBI hadn’t had any luck so far in finding Carroll’s house, where Mike assumed they currently were.

He knew that no matter what happened or what was said, he had to keep his wits about him because Roderick would take any opening, exploit any weakness. If he knew Mike was feeling hopeless, he’d push and prod until Mike broke. And if he knew Mike was attracted to him… well, Mike _really_ hoped that didn’t happen.

“You don’t have to hide who you are from me, darling,” Roderick said, taking a step forward and kneeling down so their faces were only inches apart. Mike wished more than ever that his hands were free. “I know what you want.”

Before Mike realized what was happening, Roderick had leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn’t a chaste kiss, not at all. Roderick seemed to be trying to devour him whole, pressing their mouths together so hard that their teeth bumped and caught, the taste of blood quickly filling the back of Mike’s throat.

He tried to pull away, pressing his body backward into the couch, but Roderick just reached up and caught his chin, keeping him in place. There was nothing for him to do except give in, which seemed to be exactly what Roderick wanted. As soon as he stopped struggling, Roderick surged upward, pushing Mike over onto his side on the couch.

He landed heavily on his still tied hands, the wind knocked out of him, leaving him gasping. Roderick hovered over him, knees around Mike’s hips to keep him from moving. There was a little blood smeared at the corner of his lips.

“Having fun yet?” Roderick asked, voice a little rougher than before. Mike shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and Rodrick just smiled. “Don’t worry, you will.”

Roderick slid both hands under Mike’s shirt, fingertips trailing upward until he got to Mike’s collarbones. Then he dug his nails in and pulled down, lines of fire blossoming all down Mike’s chest as his back arched in pain. Roderick’s smile widened, eyes bright as he seemed to drink in every drop of pain he inflicted.

Suddenly he brought both hands upward, the buttons on the front of Mike’s shirt straining until they burst off in every direction, leaving his chest bared. Tilting his head downward, an awkward angle with his position pressed up against the arm of the couch, Mike could just barely see the sticky red lines of blood Roderick had left behind.

“That’s a good look for you,” Roderick murmured.

A moment later he leaned down and tongued at one of the wounds, making Mike hiss. Roderick continued to kiss and lick his way across Mike’s chest, and soon every inch of Mike’s skin seemed to burn with a steady, low pain. It made his brain feel pleasantly fuzzy, the fight entirely gone out of him as he laid there and let Roderick do as he would.

That seemed to be exactly what Roderick wanted, because he could feel Roderick’s erection pressing against his thigh. More surprising, he could feel his own cock beginning to swell beneath his jeans. It seemed, despite all his early protesting and the disgust he knew he should feel at Roderick using him this way, that he actually _liked_ it. He closed his eyes, trying to will the arousal away.

“Ah ah ah, open your eyes, darling,” Roderick tutted. Mike’s eyes flew back open a moment later when a hand closed around his covered cock, hard. “Don’t think I don’t see how much you like this.”

“I _don’t_ ,” Mike tried to retort, but his words cut off in a high whine as Roderick tightened his grip. It was right on the border of pain and pleasure, which he was sure was exactly what Roderick was trying to do. Make him hurt and make him like it, all at the same time.

The hand on his cock shifted a little to unzip his jeans. Roderick pulled his cock out of the v of his pants almost carefully, stroking it just enough to make Mike groan. A moment later Roderick unzipped his own pants and angled his hips in, dragging the length of his cock against Mike’s. It was slicker with precome than Mike would have thought, and once Roderick wrapped his hand around both of their dicks, so warm and tight and good, he thought he might cry.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” Roderick murmured in his ear, hips and hand thrusting in time.

He bit down on Mike’s earlobe, hard enough to draw blood, and Mike’s back arched in mixed pleasure and pain. His whole body felt on fire and he couldn’t control the way his hips thrust up to meet Roderick’s. He was desperate to come, but bit down on the urge to beg. He couldn’t bear to give Roderick the satisfaction.

“I know deep down you want to give in to me,” Roderick said softly, the breath puffing against the side of Mike’s face thick with the coppery smell of blood. It made a shiver run up Mike’s spine, but he wasn’t sure whether it was disgust or arousal. “Just let go, darling. Come for me.”

It was like the words opened a dam within Mike, because moments later he was coming, head thrown back as he moaned and moaned and moaned. Vaguely, he could feel Roderick’s hand tightening around their cocks as he stroked faster in an effort to reach his own orgasm. It only took a few strokes before Mike could feel Roderick’s come spattering against his belly as well, the sound of the other man’s groan ringing in his ears. They both collapsed against the couch, Roderick not even bothering to make sure he wasn’t crushing Mike.

“Knew you were desperate for it,” Roderick said sometime later, voice smug. He pushed up, giving Mike room to breath again, and leaned down to kiss him in a way that felt more like ownership than anything else. “Knew you were mine.”

“Fuck you,” Mike replied, but he was really too tired to have much force behind the words. His whole body was limp, the fight gone out of him entirely, and the drying cum on his stomach was starting to itch. “I don’t belong to you.”

Roderick tutted at him, a self satisfied smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He stood up from the couch and zipped his pants up, heading toward the door that presumably led out to the rest of the house. He didn’t bother to help Mike sit up or untie his hands, which were now numb behind his back.

“We have plenty of time to see about that.”


End file.
